China Angel
by Windswift
Summary: [FaustEliza] They believed the ghost followed Faust's bidding because she had no will left. But they didn't see that Eliza was still there.


Disclaimer: Shaman King belongs to Hiroyuki Takei. Not me.

_**China Angel**_

Once, long ago, a man sought knowledge above all else, seeking the power the forbidden fruit would grant him. But he did not have the wisdom to use or attain this knowledge. He made a pact with the devil Mephistopheles, selling his very soul and humanity for the secret arts. He was a traitor to the whole human race.

However, he was soon destroyed by the demon. Such disloyal men as he are a danger, a threat, a liability. It may take two thieves to make an honest bargain, but the devil did not want to share, and the man was too lost to be of importance to anyone. Who would mourn the death of one corrupt traitor for the sating of Mephistopheles' greed?

Any grave left to commemorate Dr. Faustus must surely have fallen into ruin with the passing of time. The few secrets he stole from the devil had lain hidden and unrotting despite the ages. He also left behind a family under the name of Faust, who for generations were skilled and prominent doctors.

That line of the family, however, ended with the death of one boy.

He was born in a small German city, Johann Faust VIII, future doctor, the son of doctors. It was a lonely existence filled with medical books and studies, requiring hard work and devotion beyond what a young boy with friends could muster. But he soon found a reason and joy in helping human life.

The charming little house on Katc Street had flower boxes in its second-story windows. However, when he stood below on the sidewalk each day without fail, it was not the flowers that captivated his attention. A girl sat daily by the window, smiling at him with a delicate wave, like a china doll in a shop's display. Her name was Eliza, and she suffered from an incurable illness. The boy hoped that, if nothing else, he could free her.

With years spent toiling in a small lab and with small steps forward, Faust was gratified to see her regain her strength. And with her beside him, the young doctor and nurse finally found a cure.

That spring they were married. They opened a small clinic of their own, and soon became known for their skill and honest joy in their work. Faust and Eliza bought the house of their dreams, overlooking the water.

He came home that night, with a bouquet of roses in his hand, only to find his wife lying on the floor, cold as death. A thief had come into the house, stealing the man's most precious treasure. He sought long and hard for any way to salvage Eliza's life, but it was all in vain. Her skin remained as pale and cool as porcelain, her features lifeless. Crying over her body, the Faust boy died quietly.

Love is the most powerful force in the world. Devotion for the sake of another person may move mountains.

Love took Dr. Faust down the same path his ancestor had traveled centuries ago. In his arrogance, the later had perished. With passion, Faust VIII struggled to conquer death, to defeat the remorseless thief of love and happiness. Out of devotion, he was willing to sacrifice his humanity.

And I, the dear Eliza, still loved him. So when my husband called up my soul from beyond the grave, I came.

I might have acted like Mephistopheles, and quickly slain my master before he could do further harm. But somewhere my lover was still buried within this man, and he would have been sentenced to Hell with no one to mourn him or look beyond his crimes. Only in life did his salvation lie.

He kept my bones near his heart and never forgot that his purpose was to save me. Perhaps it was selfish, but so is love—"I want you to be happy" implies a selfish end as well. But I've still remained silent, and answered none of his pleas for me to awaken. I only want him to be happy… if he attached himself to my soul, clung to my life like a child, he would never move on.

I want him to live long enough for someone to save his soul.

Faust entered a tournament for shamans, and I became his guardian ghost. For his goal he would fight, would kill—and I would follow him. I obeyed his commands. Of my own free will, I murdered a man, broke the code of a nurse. And I alone carry the blame on my shoulders; it is my guilt to bear. Forgive my husband, my love, for he knows not what he does.

The workings of love… are unfathomable.

A china doll is meant to sit upon the shelf in a young girl's room, too lovely and fragile to be taken down and played with. But it loves the little mistress no less than do the well-worn teddy bears and rag dolls.

One night the shadow-thief creeps into the maiden's room, seeking to steal her breath. In the dark of night the child is defenseless, and the toys can do nothing. The china doll cries to her mistress to throw her from the shelf to the floor, to shatter her very existence. These blades of porcelain, you can protect yourself with…

And in the dark of night, there is blood upon the little mistress' hands, and tears upon her cheeks. But the broken doll is happy, because time heals all wounds, and there is time left for the child.

Do not say that my husband broke me. Many years ago, so the legend says, the devil cursed his family. Against so powerful a fate, even lifeless dolls will rise up to fight it. As warriors, we are called angels.

It is not my gift to bestow healing. I cannot give forgiveness—there is no crime against me. Can a traitor to humanity, who sought to overthrow death and unwittingly abolish life's meaning, be saved? I can only give time, battling the inevitable, waiting for his savior.

I only wish that when the lights go off and I am put back on the shelf, that I could follow you, so that you'd never be abandoned.

**…****  
End  
…**

_-Windswift Shinju_


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